


Baby, It’s So Cold Outside, What’s Keeping You Warm?

by BouncyBrittonie



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas fic, Fluff, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Mild Language, Millennial Humor, Requited Unrequited Love, Shopping, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 15:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16267514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BouncyBrittonie/pseuds/BouncyBrittonie
Summary: ‘Damn boy keeps forgettin’ I’m a fuckin’ lieutenant, for God’s sake.’Connor must have felt the cold, had to, as if it bit into his bare fingers and through his thin Cyberlife jacket, and if Hank noticed (and he indeed did notice) he didn’t say anything, as Connor turned up in one of his scarfs, brazenly wrapped around his neck, fingers threaded through and tangled in the ends.He had to fix this.





	Baby, It’s So Cold Outside, What’s Keeping You Warm?

**Author's Note:**

> I always say that if a pairing makes me write fic, then, we’ll, it’s one of my eternal OTP’s, and considering I cosplayed Connor to Syd Comic Con, I would have to say that’s right.
> 
> This took a look of energy and what seems like ages to write, but I hope everyone enjoys it!
> 
> Come scream with me at my tumblr bouncybrittonie and my Twitter bouncybritt!

“Can’t venture too far out of Connor’s comfort zone, guy has a certain sense of style, even if it came out of a box.”

 

Connor loved his signature jacket, that Hank knew. He had it since his commissioning, and he wore it when he had first tracked him down. That alone was more than enough to tie in some good memories despite the blood that eventually touched its surface. The Lieutenant was too busy drowning himself in the bottle to realise what exactly had fallen into his lap, but he had come to love the sight of his partner in his familiar shades of grey and blue. 

 

Since -  ‘ _ I’ve become deviant, Hank-’ ‘You’re not goddamn deviant, Connor, stop callin’ it- like what kind of word is that anyway?! Cyberlife bullshit, you’re a fuckin’ person.’ _ \- Connor had gained his newfound humanity, he could tell that the young android was struggling with certain aspects, although Hank never thought he would ever say that. 

 

Particularly emotions, and oddly enough, weather conditions, which Hank thought strange for an Android, because as far as he knew, only extreme heat and extreme cold, much more extreme than any human could handle, could really damage them in any way. But the weather had changed from blessed warm to scorching heat, to the relief of golden leaves and then back to the snow covered wonderland that signified a year since they first met, and Hank just  _ knew  _ that Connor could feel this cold now, although why he was reluctant to say anything just boggled his human mind.

 

Connor  _ must  _ have felt the cold, had to, as if it bit into his bare fingers and through his thin Cyberlife jacket, and if Hank noticed (and he indeed did notice) he didn’t say anything, as Connor turned up in one of his scarfs, brazenly wrapped around his neck, fingers threaded through and tangled in the ends.

 

What Hank didn’t know, however, was that Connor ~~took~~ borrowed them, mostly because he was cold, the unusual feeling seeping into his titanium alloy skeletal and joint structure in a way that he could only describe as  _ ‘in his very bones’ _ .

 

And because the thick knitted wool trapped the smell of Hank’s cologne and natural scent in an enticing mix that Connor just loved to bury his face into, when his own sensors told him there was at least a 99% possibility that no one was watching.

 

And Connor didn’t want Hank to know he was cold, not when he wasn’t even sure that that was what he was feeling, all he knew was that he hurt when he shouldn’t, and Hank’s scarf was the key to his relief.

 

‘ _ Damn boy keeps forgettin’ I’m a fuckin’ lieutenant, for God’s sake.’ _

 

Hank raged to himself as he watched Connor come in from the snow. Of course he noticed him, fingers tinged with blue on the ends, his nose and cheeks the same, the way he tried to pull down his sleeves, and how he absolutely buried himself in his borrowed scarf. The white flakes of snow melting on his shoulders, and he thought that he actually saw Connor  _ shiver _ , and goddamn, that just about did it. 

 

So Hank did some research of his own, sitting at home in the warmth of their apartment while Connor pottered around in the kitchen. He was dressed in one of Hank’s old Death Metal hoodies and a pair of sweat pants that he picked up after an excruciating week of seeing Connor wash his single pair of work pants almost every day. Slicing up vegetables and meat in a far slower pace that was considered normal for an android, Hank could tell he was enjoying himself, sneaking Sumo scraps of the steak he was slicing when he thought that Hank wasn’t looking. The great beast - ‘ _ More like the great sulk.’ -  _ panting and smiling up a storm and nuzzling against Connor’s thigh. 

 

Hank pulled up the Cyberlife portal on his tablet, making sure that the screen was set down low and the sound set to silent. Not that any of his devices were switched out from silent mode since about the year Twenty Eighteen. His eye threatened to twitch as he clicked into the  **_Accessories for Androids_ ** link, and he tried not to react openly to the backwards qualities that simple statement entailed.

 

Luckily he found exactly what he was looking for. 

 

If he wasn’t the thoughtful bastard that he was, he would have relished the idea of taking Connor to a regular human store, pressing him into a change room and piling him with both his favorite hideous prints and more neutral and solid colors which matched a developing taste. But even the thought of that just felt sinful, and since Connor would insist on paying Hank back as soon as his first paycheck from the Precinct came through, he decided not to put himself through all that turmoil.

 

Hank took a look at the hefty price tag and didn’t even bat an eyelid.  _ ‘Too fucking lovesick more like it.’  _ He thought as he took a quick glance to Connor, who was now standing still in the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand, pointing it to the ground as he asked Sumo to sit before bouncing happily on his heels, and throwing him a little more steak as Sumo did what he asked.

 

Hank’s heart did a little flip, and he added the piece of clothing into the cart. The impact to his drinking money would be worth it.

 

_ ‘Pretty much rollin’ in it now though.’  _

 

He felt no stress pressing his palm to the tablet screen when prompted, not like he used to, choosing between booze and another weeks worth of food more than once a month. But Connor was a persistent pain in the rear, albeit a gorgeous one, and he had managed to cut down quite a bit without much effort. The joys of having a cooking partner, Connor had smiled without a hint of sarcasm. He still indulged, that’s for sure, but hardly every day, and Hank had to admit, rather begrudgingly, that he felt  _ better.  _ There was always beer in the fridge, something that Connor sourced with a lower alcoholic content (and it actually tasted pretty damn good, damn him), and as much as the pull of the bottle was there, he found it more and more easy to… resist.

 

_ ‘And I’m  _ **_this_ ** _ close to actually wanting to go to counseling. Almost.’ _

 

 

\----------

 

 

Hank had the almost impossible task of controlling Sumo as he bounced around the door to the apartment when the Cyberlife delivery Android came knocking. He was a cheerful looking thing, blonde and handsome, cradling a luxurious long box in the crook of his arm, and even took a moment to kneel down and scratch Sumo behind the ears when Hank gave his permission, earning the pleasant man a huge lick right down the face.

 

“You guys have a certain thing for dogs.”

 

“I believe we are drawn to animals in general, Mr Anderson, they are less judgemental than other living creatures that inhabit this planet- no offense intended, Sir.”

 

“Oh, no, full offense received, most humans are racist pieces of shit, you have every right to prefer animals, I do too.”

 

“Well, for the reason I am here, I am sure that you are not one of those humans.” Hank’s answer was only a series of mumbled half insults with absolutely no heat, and he took the tablet given to him to sign. The Android was smiling, not something programmed and stiff to be caused by anything other than true emotion, and he found a smile curling the corners of his lips despite himself. He could never get used to how honest and downright infectious Android happiness could be. “Gift wrapped as requested, Sir.”

 

“Thanks, appreciate the fast delivery, send a customer compliment back to your boss for me, uh, what’s your name?”

 

“Dale, Sir, I chose it myself.” Dale blushed prettily and smiled, pride beaming on his face, and his LED display flashed furiously as Hank guessed that he had sent the compliment. The lights reminded him of sitting in his first apartment late at night, the bulbs from his modem dancing in the corner of his eye as the connection worked to the wire. “All done, thank you very much for ordering your gift through Cyberlife!”

 

“Thanks, Kid- Dale, say goodbye Sumo!”

 

The Android beamed as Sumo let out a great bellow of a bark and smiled in the way that dogs only can, tongue lolling out and eyes almost closed, and Dale gave a short wave before closing the door behind him.

 

Hank thanked his lucky stars that the gift arrived so soon, on a day that Connor was blessedly absent, working at the precinct on his very own case. The case itself sounded arduous and tough, and when Fowler asked for a volunteer at the morning meeting, almost everyone had shrunk down into their seats, Hank included. But Connor stayed tall, and after a few moments of looking around, not wanting to step on his fellow detectives toes, his hand shot up and he was still grinning as he dumped all the tablets on his desk. 

 

_ “Captain Fowler called me a Good man!” _

 

He plucked the card from the box, added as a last thought in case it caught Connor when he was home alone. ‘ _ Not one peek before I get home, no X-Ray vision or anything of the sort, Con.’  _ It was silly, but oh so Hank, and he couldn’t help but imagine the little smile on the Android’s face as he tried his best not resist newfound temptation.

 

In truth, Hank hadn’t owned anything this nice, not since his early days where he still had the blonde left in his hair, and his disciplinary file was practically non existent. His gut stirred with… it wasn’t jealousy, but another feeling all together, and Hank pondered on the thought that he might have to have a look for some new clothes of his own. All of his favorite patterned garish clothing were back in style, of course, albeit a bit more fashionable, but the thought of that wasn’t bad at all. 

 

He found that he wanted to look  _ good _ next to Connor, for the first time in his life, to be worth even a little bit of the light that shone in the Android’s eyes. That almost love sick gaze that Hank could always see when he looked at the world, like he was in love with life itself.

 

The same look he gave to Hank.

 

Maybe show Connor that he was actually worthy of that look, that it would be more than okay to have those kinds of feelings for him. That those feelings were more than shared with his old, washed up, grump of a partner.

 

Maybe.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

“Fuck, feelings are fucking hard.”

 

Almost on cue, Sumo trotted over to the couch that Hank had put himself in, and rested his chin on his knee, letting out a long sigh of a deflate and trained his big watery puppy dog eyes up at his owner. 

 

“Nah, you’re right, feelings aren’t the thing that’s hard. What’s hard is your self depreciation.” Hank buried his fingers into Sumo’s fur and scratched just the way his good dog liked it. “Connor probably just doesn’t think about you that way, with absolutely no malice of humanity behind it, and it sucks but what can you do? Not gonna force him into something he doesn’t want. Just take what you can get and be grateful he’s in you life. Good boy, Sumo, you always know what to say.”

 

The present was wrapped perfectly, and Hank never doubted that it would be, but he was grateful that he had opened the box before Connor, because sitting atop in plain view was a card in beautiful cursive script-  **_For your aesthetic pleasure._ ** He wasn’t sure if it was an automated addition, or Kamski’s idea of a hint, although the latter and the man’s utter… creepiness told him otherwise, he took great pleasure in ripping the card into the smallest possible pieces before putting it all down the garbage disposal for good measure.

  
“This is for Connor, you piece of shit, I’m doing this for Connor. Living embodiment of stranger danger, Jesus fucking Christ.”   
  
The jacket was laid out beautifully, nestled inside pearly white tissue paper, and Hank knew that when Connor picked it up, the length of it would tumble out, like a princess admiring a perfect gown in those old animations of his childhood. The jacket was the same design as his old faithful, but thicker, a true winter coat, double breasted with two rows of shining black buttons, and the familiar blue reflective patches shimmered even in the low light of their house. With Connor’s lights under them, they would look magnificent. 

 

He smoothed a hand over the material and it felt luxurious and soft beneath his palms. The shoulders were leather, with bands and buckles around the wrists and a thick one for Connor’s trim waist. And Hank knew that he will look a million bucks, but Connor was worth much more than that.

 

He had matched a simple pair of well tailored dark grey trousers to the jacket after a recommendation from the website, and a silk white shirt, knowing that Connor was developing a real sense for textures. Nothing to do with the smile that he caught his partner wearing while running his fingers over a vintage Glomesh purse while investigating an Antique’s store. Or the serene look when he slipped his hand gently into a barrel of dried beans at the health food store on Main street. Or the tears in his eyes and the way his fingers threaded through Sumo’s soft fur as he fell to his knees on the day that Hank finally took Connor back home, where he belonged, Connor stroking Sumo all night as they sat together on the couch until he fell into an unplanned stasis, warm beneath the Saint Benard’s hulking weight. 

 

He just thought that Connor would appreciate having something nice to wear. That’s all. To help further his experiences.

 

_ ‘Bullshit, Anderson, bull fucking shit.’ _

 

And he almost forgot the matching leather gloves, butter soft and slender, laying tied together with a blue ribbon on top of the jacket. Everything was perfect.

 

Although the outfit did feel like it was missing something, but Hank didn’t have time to worry about that glaring fact before Sumo was up like a shot, bouncing around the front door as he recognised Connor’s precise sound of the key in the lock as he came home. 

 

_ ‘Home…’ _ Hank’s throat tightened at the thought, and he smiled to himself as Connor burst into a grin at the sight of their dog, and crouched down to scratch him behind the ears with both hands.  ‘ _ Ours... huh, well, let’s face it, he’s Connor’s now too.’ _

 

“Hello Sumo! Guess who solved their first solo case! I did! I was insinuating by the rhetorical question that it was me!” Sumo’s leg thumped against the floor along with his tail as Connor scratched his favorite spot, but then he was up in a shot again, smiling at Hank who’s heart thudded in his chest. “Hank! I did it! I solved it!”

 

His mind wandered momentarily to what he wished he could do right at this very moment. He wished that he could open his arms and have Connor run into them, he wished that Connor would wrap his arms around his neck and Hank would kiss him with every hint of excitement that he had. He wished that he could spin his partner around and hike Connor up his body with unashamed hands on his rear and pull him impossibly closer, kissing him all the while, so that he could hitch his legs around his hips before he would deposit Connor on the kitchen counter to tell his tale. Not before stealing his breath and his lips between words.

 

He settled with patting the couch cushion beside him.

 

“Congrats Con! Jesus Christ, that wasn’t long.”

 

“Captain Fowler said I operated at even 38% above other Android officers! Well, he didn’t give that figure exactly but he was proud, and I deduced it myself from the records and-”

 

“Smug son of a bitch, aren’t ya.” Hank hooked an arm around Connor’s neck and pulled him close, laughing as Connor flailed a little, reminiscent of the time the Android had sobered him up in the bathtub, and not so guiltily buried his nose into his hair for a moment or two. “You deserve it, Con, you work hard- and  _ Jesus fucking Christ, you’re freezing! _ ” 

 

The snow that stuck to Hank’s nose and cheek melted upon contact to the heat of his skin, and he didn’t miss the way that Connor shivered beneath his arm and pressed closer to the broad heat of his body. Without thinking, he took the Android’s hands into his and pressed the ice cold fingers between his own, cursing again at the blue tinge that gathered at the ends, and he looked hard at the same blue that dusted the tip of his nose, crept over his ears and flooded his cheeks.

 

Their eyes locked, Hank’s full of concern and Connor’s startled, but slowly turning into that same look of love for life that Hank both adored and hated with a passion, that it wasn’t directed at him, but at the same time still was. 

 

“I’m… I’m warmer now.” Connor’s voice was almost a whisper, and his fingers curled together between Hank’s hands so that they were nestled fully between them. 

 

“Connor-”

 

“I don’t… I’m not supposed to feel like this, I’m so… it’s like I can’t get rid of it.”

 

“The cold?” Hank’s chest tightened as he watched as his partner nodded, small and minute, and his LED flickered orange just once. It was akin to a twitch of the nose, a little microexpression that the Lieutenant would never have known about without being blessed with Connor’s company for the past year, and he noticed more and more every single day. “Christ- give me your- yeah, that’s it.” Hank raised Connor’s fingers to his mouth, cradling them between his broad palms before parting his lips and slowly, gently, ghosting the warmth of his hot breath over his synthetic skin. 

 

The effect was instantaneous, and Hank could hear the gasp that escaped Connor’s lips, little multiple hitches hardly audible if not for him being so close. He could feel his slender fingers stretch and shake to bask in the warmth that was so willingly given to him, and his shoulders crept to his ears, body trying to curl closer to Hank’s touch. The very tips of Connor’s fingers brushed over his beard, just below his lips, and it took every ounce of willpower that he certainly did not possess to stop himself from kissing the soft pads of his fingers, unmarked by the swirls of fingerprints.

 

Connor didn’t need them. He was unique all on his own.

 

“Hank…”

 

His resolve flicked, it wasn’t Connor’s fault; or well, it could have been, but before Hank could let his thoughts turn down the path of no return, he let out an exasperated grunt that was probably too forced for his liking but was effective all the same. His Android startled back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, and while pushing down every feeling of love and want that he possessed, he took Connor by the wrists and pulled him up off the couch. 

 

“Goddamn it, Connor, you need to take better care of yourself! Shower! Hot! But not too hot. Now! You’re gonna be the goddamn death of me.”

 

What Hank didn’t see was the gentle smile that graced Connor’s lips while he trailed behind him.

 

“Of course, Lieutenant.”

 

 

\---------

 

 

It wasn’t until Connor was bundled back onto the couch with Sumo draped possessively over his lap that Hank even motioned to the box that seemed to take up the entire coffee table. He was curled up in his old Academy hoodie, a little frayed at the edges of the cuffs but huge, warm and soft, and his sweatpants and socks, all of which Hank had stuffed into the dryer the moment he heard the shower running and laid on Connor’s bed once the pipes had creaked to a stop. 

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Connor to focus on what he did, but-

 

Screw that, he didn’t.

 

Hoping that Connor would notice how much he loved him, while simultaneously making sure that Connor would  _ never _ find out. 

 

That was the dream right there, living forever in a constant cycle of unrequited pining.

 

But he let himself dabble in some self indulgence, as if he didn’t already, he greedily took in the sight of Connor finally warm. The blue still in his skin, but it was different somehow, spread over his cheeks and down his neck, all over the peak of collarbone and shoulder that was bared by the too big hoodie. His hair was out of his usual perfect style, just a little damp, the ends curled a little from the steam and his LED hummed a happy stead blue and Hank wished that he could keep Connor this blissful and content for the rest of his days.

 

“So, I thought- I mean, I didn’t think, I  _ knew _ that you… fuck.” Hank wished that he had a drink right now, something hard, something with a burn and a kick that made him gasp for air, but all he had was a cup of hot chocolate, and Connor’s eyes gazing wide and lovingly at him from the other side of the lounge. “There.” Hank gestured wildly to the box on the table in front of them. “I bought you something.”

 

If he expected any kind of reaction from Connor, he didn’t expect this in the least, he almost kicked poor Sumo off his lap in his excitement, and he made sure to soothe the hulking beast when he stared down at him. Great big scratches behind the ears with both hands, kneeling on the couch cushion so he could look Sumo in those huge watery puppy dog eyes, he murmured soothing words that made Hank’s heart flip in his chest.

 

Then once more he attempted to scramble off the couch to kneel excitedly next to the coffee table, running his hands over the box.

 

“For me? Really?”

 

“Well, I sure don’t need anything from Cyberlife, that’s for sure.” Hank huffed, closed his eyes and crossed his arms, waiting to hear the sound of Connor just about tearing at the packaging, but he didn’t hear a peep. He opened one eye, “Connor, what gives, open it.”

 

“This… is my very first gift.”

 

“What are you talking about? What about Weathers? Didn’t she buy you that orchid for your desk?”

 

Connor settled down on the floor, crossing his legs and hugging them to his knees, he let his body fall to the side against the couch, hair brushing against Hank’s knee and his hands twitched to card his fingers through its softness. “That was… a social obligation. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the plant very much; and it has brought some human like individuality to my desk, but there was a reason for that to be presented to me. But a gift… it may not seem like the true definition according to my databases, but I find that I like… I can not think of a reason as to why you would do this.”

 

Hank arched an eyebrow, a grin beginning to twitch at the corner of his lips. “Surprises. You like surprises.”

 

His Android settled his gaze down towards the box, and he could see the telltale mimic of a human blush creep into his cheeks. It was Hank’s favorite, he had to admit, although a little garish. Bright blue patches on the apples of Connor’s cheeks, a little dusting of blue on his chin, over the tops of his ears and even over the knuckles that hugged at his knees. “I think so. Yes. I do.”

 

“Well, hurry up and open your surprise, damn it, I’m excited to see what it is.”

 

“But, Hank, you purchased this-”

 

“Come on, Con!”

 

That was all the permission that Connor needed, and he smiled bright, and tugged at the ribbon that held the box closed. It was a stark white box, without a scratch or a blemish, detailed in black and tied with a sparkling blue ribbon that seemed to glow, just like the accents on Connor’s coat. They really spared no expense in the details, be it with Androids, or packaging.

 

“ _ Oh, Hank… _ ” 

 

The softness of Connor’s words and the hush in his voice would be forever burned into Hank’s brain, and he watched as the Android stood, taking the jacket with him, and just like he had imagined the length of the coat tumbled out as he held it up to the light.

 

It was like watching a kid at Christmas, Connor’s eyes shone in the dim living room, admiring the luxuriously thick material of the coat, it’s silk lining, the leather of the straps and the way that the blue sewn patches seemed to glow even at something as simple of Connor’s touch. He turned it around and held it to his body, before smiling in a way that made Hank feel simply envirogated, and he did a little twirl.

 

“It’s wonderful, Hank! You bought this just for me?” Connor looked to the table, smile growing wider as he spied the rest of the outfit inside the box. “There’s more?!”

 

“Well, I didn’t buy it for  _ me _ , did I? Go on, try it on-  **_wait,_ ** _ Connor,  _ not here!”

 

But Connor didn’t hear him, or he simply chose to ignore him, although Hank guessed the latter, while swearing to both his own God and Ra9 that they had created such a little shit as Connor. Hank jerked his head away, cursing to himself as he tried to ignore his partner’s perfect skin being hurriedly bared to the air.

 

“Are those sock garters?!”

 

It was almost comical, Connor standing in just his boxer briefs, one leg raised to step into the new pants, perfect balance, and  _ stupid perfect foot and leg just pointed and those stupid garters just framing his calves and _ -

 

“I… I don’t like it when my socks fall down.”

 

_ Of course he didn’t. _

 

It was, of course, Sumo who broke the tension,  _ goddamn dog is a giant chaperone,  _ with a loud boof of a bark that seemed more like impatience than actual aggravation, and Hank turned his head once more, giving the poor neglected animal a scruff around the ears, while Connor kept changing in the corner of his eye.

 

“I’m done! Hank! It’s wonderful!”

 

He wasn’t sure if it was the excitement on Connor’s face, or the way he held his arms out to his sides as he spun around, making the coat billow around his hips; or the way he stopped to fiddle with the straps around his wrists or neaten the collar of his shirt. It might have been the way that he looked in that outfit, and everything that Hank doubted about Kamski faded, at least when it came to aesthetics and fashion choices. He was  _ perfect _ . And not in the sense that Connor was built that way, because there was no doubting he was made to be the epitome of man made humanity. 

 

But no, Connor was perfect, to Hank, in the deepest sense of the word.

 

His heart, he had built himself, and his soul, he had made for his own, and his quirks, which were neither Android or Human, they were  _ Connor _ . His failings, although Hank could feel the disappointment and pain radiate off of him in waves, he would not change, because the way that Connor dealt with this very real feeling made Hank love him more. And his triumphs, Hank felt his heart swell in his chest at the thought, the way that the Android was now  _ owning _ his success, that inner confidence growing and spilling out into his features. Making him willing to put his hand up in front of his fellow officers, and making him a little bit cocky in the face of Reed (who of course, absolutely deserved it, and if that didn’t give Hank a goddamn hard on laced with pride then there was something totally wrong with him).

 

Yes, Connor was perfect, to Hank, because he was not. 

 

And seeing Connor here, in his house, sock covered feet, relaxed and smiling, in the clothes that  _ Hank had bought for him _ . Well, he didn’t ignore the feelings that built in his gut, not this time. 

 

He would be selfish, and enjoy the thought that maybe Connor could be his.

 

Just this once.

 

“You look amazing, Connor.” Hank’s voice was strained, but in such a good way, and he eyed the way that his partner looked in his perfectly tailored trousers and shirt through the open jacket. The shirt almost had a pearly finish to it, and Connor couldn’t help but run his fingers over the silk, gently smiling in awe all the while. He had a feeling that this shirt would only see special occasions, but that suited him just fine, something about the fact that other eyes would be seeing  _ his  _ partner in this outfit kind of toyed with his heart strings.

 

Connor just  _ smiled _ at him so bright, and did up the buckle of the belt, and Hank was so pleased he was right about the fact that the leather band suited his trim and taut waist.

 

“It’s so  _ warm _ , Hank! This jacket is just so- wait, I think- ah!” Connor concentrated, his LED flashing rapid pulses of blue, and he looked down as his arms and chest rippled with nanotechnology. The grey of the fabric came to life, and crept over the blue that identified him as an Android; the lights that until recently were compulsory by law for all Android units.

 

But now-

 

“I… I can blend in.”

 

Hank felt his heart drop all the way down into his gut, the very last thing he wanted was to make him feel like he had to change, for anyone, least at all a sad human like him. “Fuck, Con, I’m sorry, I had no idea it could even do that, I mean it’s just a jacket.”

 

“No, don’t be sorry, I’m sure it must be included by CyberLife, some humans still are prejudiced against Androids. This would be a very helpful feature to keep us safe. And it will do me well if I ever need to blend in for a case.” Connor’s smile faltered, and he sunk down to sit on the bare coffee table. Hank  _ would  _ have made the joke of putting a coaster under that thing, like normal, but as much of a heartless bastard that he was, which he wasn’t, he knew when to keep his mouth shut. “Would you prefer me? As a human?”

 

A year ago, Hank would have answered yes, straight away. But his anger and hatred towards Androids was an excuse for his disgust of the humans who chose to drown themselves in fistfuls of powder, sucking the blood of machines dry for the privilege, and destroying the lives of the humans around them. In that moment, his partner looked so small, and he could hardly imagine himself in that kind of situation, putting your whole existence into the hands of another, who was vocally against his kind when they first met.

 

“I don’t care what you are, Connor, as long as you’re you.” Connor’s eyes were still downcast, and he wasn’t sure if he was just processing this information or if he didn’t believe him, and for god measure, Hank reached forward and clapped a hand onto Connor’s bicep. “If you trust me with anything, then trust me with this. You’re you, and that’s all I care about.”

 

The smile that crept over his face was gentle and shy, and he looked up to Hank through impossibly long lashes, and the Lieutenant took the opportunity to take the last part of the gift and press it between Connor’s fingers.

 

“Here, these too, even your fingers were turning blue.”

 

Connor removed the ribbon from around the gloves, slipped them on, and the look of sheer relief and joy just spread over the Android’s face. The gloves were like a second skin, and Hank watched as he flexed his fingers, staring at his hands, “They’re so  _ warm _ , I feel like-  _ wait! _ ”

 

He was up in a shot, racing towards the front door, and threw it open to a rush of wind and much to the aggravated swearing of Hank,  _ “What the fuck, Connor! Jesus!”  _ and whining howl of Sumo, but it wasn’t long before he returned, his hands cupped with snow, and he kicked the door closed behind him.

 

“I’m not cold, Hank! I can’t feel the sharp decrease of temperature against my fingers! And my thirium is flowing at a normal rate all around my body, not sluggish like I would feel outside in the cold normally! I feel at my peak, Hank! And it’s all because of you!” Connor bent down to show Sumo the snow cupped in his hands, “Sumo! Look! I’m not cold!”

 

The Saint Bernard took one look at the powdered snow cupped in Connor’s hands before opening his mouth wide and promptly eating it from his palms in a single bite.

 

“Aw hell.” Hank simply stared at Sumo while he whined loudly, pressing himself to the floor before kneading at his head with his giant paws. “Serves you right! You gave yourself a brain freeze, you dumb dog.” But his actions betrayed his words as he bent to rub at Sumo’s head with his broad hands, smiling as he nuzzled into his touch. “I’m glad you like your gifts, Connor.”

 

Connor smiled brightly, absolutely preening, adjusting the cuffs of his gloves, before taking them off, wiggling his fingers, and folding them gently and slipping them back into his pocket.

 

“Hmm, still feels like it’s missing something.” Hank mused, sitting back deep into the lounge and staring up at the Android that stood before him. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of it.”

 

“... Hank?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I want… I want to give you a gift of my own.”

 

He looked… Hank couldn’t think of a word. Worried? Hopeful? Unsure? Whatever it seemed to be, it was like there was a ball of tension building in the spot where Connor’s stomach would be. His hands fiddled, with the cuffs of his jacket, and touched his chest in the absence of a tie, and Hank was sure if he had access to his coin, it would be spinning on the tips of his fingers.

 

These particular emotions were something that Hank was able to notice easily on Connor, especially since he experienced them so strongly himself, and it made him want to grab Kamski by the neck and growl directly in his rat like face  _ ‘Fucked up a perfectly good Android is what you did! Look at him! You gave him anxiety! _ ’ 

 

But this was such a sudden change that it made Hank frown, and he shuffled to sitting at the edge of the lounge.

 

“Connor? Man, listen, you don’t have to give me a gift just because I gave you one.” 

 

Panic washed over Connor’s face, and the Lieutenant promptly wanted to kick himself. “But I want to! I…” His face fell, and he let his eyes drift back down to the floor, crossing his arms and tucking his hands into his armpits like he was cold. “It’s… something I’ve never given anyone before. I would like you to be the first. I’m just not one hundred percent sure that you would accept it.”

 

Then he looked to Hank with those doe brown eyes, and very barely bit the fullness of his lower lip, just skimmed the plushness of the skin, all subconsciously, and he felt heat flare up in the pit of his stomach. 

 

He knew what Connor wanted to give him, and the thought of it made the breath catch in his throat and his voice became rough like gravel. “Connor-”

 

“I want to give this only to you.”

 

“You don’t want this, Con.” ‘ _ But I do! Christ! I want this so much but _ …’ His stare said, eyes flickering to his knees before back up to Connor’s face. Hank couldn’t do it, couldn’t make the decision for him. He was an old and selfish man, but when it came to Connor, he just couldn’t. Couldn’t take that trust and abuse it, couldn’t start anything or finish it, it had to be Connor, it had to be, even if it meant putting his happiness in the hands of another.

 

“But I do, Hank, trust me.” 

 

His focus was unwavering, in a way that wasn’t like the unblinking gaze of Connor’s fellow androids; his eyes were shining, flickering back and forth over Hank’s face, lower lip trembling just that little bit, as if he could barely contain the desperation bubbling inside of him, but the look was still strong, determined, hopeful-

 

And absolutely vulnerable.

 

_ You’ve got to trust me now.  _ His eyes said, and Connor’s hands clenched at this sides, his voice more like a whisper.

 

“Please.” His lips said, and Hank felt his resolve crumble to dust.

 

It just became so easy. So easy to offer Connor his hand as Hank sat on the edge of the couch, arm stretched out to him, and it was so easy for Connor to take it, slipping his palm into the offered hand, and so sinfully easy for Hank to dip his head and press a gentle kiss to the top of his palm. He could hear Connor gasp, such a sweet sound to his ears, and could feel the skin beneath his lips turn to smooth, warm plastic. 

 

“This isn’t fair, Lieutenant. To spoil me with so many gifts.” 

 

Hank stroked his thumb against the top of Connor’s knuckles, before pressing his palm to his cheek, watching out of the corner of his eye as the synthetic skin healed over the mark of his lips, before the stark whiteness spread over his palm, almost as if the bare nature of him was desperate to feel Hank’s heat. 

 

“You won’t know the meaning of the word fair, not when I’m through with you.” It was Hank’s turn to look up at him through his lashes, and he had to be honest, he knew how he looked, or the look that he was trying to give, in the very least. Intense and hot, and full of want and desire, and  _ love _ , so much love, and he realized that he had succeeded when he could see Connor’s knees actually  _ tremble _ before he pulled his hand away and took a seat next to Hank on the lounge. 

 

“I am not sure how to proceed. I knew that I wanted to give this to you, but there are several ways that I could do this and I am not sure which avenue that you would… prefer.” Connor stopped, his head jerking up at the sound of Hank’s soft laughter. 

 

“I’m sure we can explore all of those ways, Con, in time, if I’m thinking what you’re thinking about all of this.” Hank took the opportunity to lean back into the lounge, and stretch his arm across the back of it. He smiled openly as Connor took his cue and slowly leaned back himself, tucking his leg beneath him and slotting himself along the plain of his side. Hank didn’t curl his arm around his shoulders like he wanted to, just let his hand come to rest barely against the shoulder of his jacket. “Ball’s in your court, Connor, how this goes tonight is up to you.”

 

For a few moments, Hank thought that Connor was content to just be close to him, and that would have been absolutely okay. The snow falling down gently, visible through the window, the heater on in the corner of the living room, Sumo laying flat on his stomach on the rug like a living breathing giant fur pillow, illuminated by the multicolored glow of the Christmas tree. Connor fully clothed, and Hank absolutely indecent in his comparison, long loose pajama pants, boot like slippers and a black T-shirt that Hank had thrown on, even though it didn’t match, because he liked how the sleeves clung to the muscles in his arms. 

 

He could have closed his eyes, could have gleefully wrapped his arm fully around Connor’s shoulders and rested his cheek against the silk of Connor’s hair. But as his eyes slipped closed, he felt Connor’s hand rest light, barely there fingertips on the line of his jaw gently turning his head, the warmth of the Android enter into his personal space, and the plush of his lips pressed dry and feather light against the scruff of his cheek.

 

His forehead pressed against above where his lips had came to rest, and Hank gave into the last of his temptations, curled his hand into the soft hair at the back of Connor’s crown before pressing his own lips to the Android’s forehead, firm and almost bruising if he was a human.

 

He tugged him as close as he could, nose pressed into Connor’s hair, curls created by the hot steam of the shower tickling his nose. Absolutely desperate to put all of his feelings into some simple gesture, where he knew that words would fail him.

 

And Connor understood. 

 

His arms came to wrap around Hank’s middle, pressing into his embrace like he belonged there. Because he did, Hank knew that now. And he would do everything he could to be worthy of that; Connor’s head tucked beneath his chin, his weight in his arms, the love blooming in his chest.

 

Connor sighed, quietly, a sound all his own, and nuzzled his face into Hank’s neck.

 

Perfect.

 

 

—————

 

 

“You know, I think I know what’s missing.”

 

“Huh, you think so?”

 

It was a very lazy morning, and Hank awoke to his nose buried into Connor’s soft hair, his first night in Hank’s bed-  _ their _ bed. It didn’t matter that the sunlight was barely streaming through the window, and that Hank didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was to goddamn early on a day off to be awake. It didn’t matter that Connor was wrapped around Sumo who gave the smallest of growls when he attempted to extract him from his grip,  _ ‘Alright, geez, steal my boyfriend, why don’t you.’  _

 

It didn’t matter that Hank’s eyes blew wide and he fell back to the bed with hands scrubbing over his face, heart feeling as light as a feather inside his chest. “Boyfriend, fuck, he’s my  _ boyfriend _ .”

 

“ _ This RK800 unit is currently in a self induced recharge state. Time remaining, One Hour, Seventeen Minutes, Fourteen Seconds. Is there a matter of urgency, or can the unit continue to recharge?”  _ Hank was startled by Connor’s soft voice, radiating from his sleeping body, and it took a minute for Hank to realize what it all was. He could of broke out into laughter, felt it bubbling inside his chest, but swallowed it down with a smile. 

 

“No, Con, go back to sleep. Recharge, whatever, day off today.”

 

Hank body slamming himself back to the bed must have jostled Connor, and he watched as the Android’s LED spun, moving from full orange, to a steady blue in a few circuits. He could feel his own tiredness pull at the inner corners of his eyes, and without a word he returned to his place wrapped around Connor, and could swear he cuddled back into him in return.

 

And promptly woke two hours later to the sounds of Connor pottering in the kitchen and the smell of- was that  _ bacon _ ?

 

Turkey bacon, it turned out to be, but when it was being cooked along with some scrambled eggs, studded with feta, and with some flawlessly green avocado that made Hank think that Connor did  _ indeed _ have X-ray vision to pick a beauty like that, then he wasn’t complaining in the slightest.

 

Considering that this was all being prepared by said Android dressed in only his hoodie from last night, and his boxer briefs, well, Christ, if that wasn’t a wonderful cliche that kept on goddamn giving.

 

_ ‘Might as well finish the idea, hot fucking damn.’  _ Hank decided, as he pressed against Connor’s back, wrapping his arms around his trim waist as he stood at the stove, and pressed open mouthed nipping kisses to the back of his neck.

 

His breakfast was just as good cold, and he ate it with a fork with the plate resting on the arm of the lounge, tracing patterns on the back of Connor’s neck and playing with the short hair he found there. Connor curled sideways across his lap, arms curled around Hank’s own neck, and puffs of simulated breath against his chest, happy to stay in his own little world of warmth and tranquility.

 

“So, sweetheart, what’s missing?”

 

They were walking through downtown Main Street, through the shops, hand in hand, Connor proudly wearing his new coat and gloves, staring up at the billboards and shops as they went. 

 

It was so easy, so so easy to do this, to hold his hand, and to call him names that were just threaded with spun sugar, it was like a dam had burst, wants and needs that Hank had thought had died along with his son, with his wife when she had left him. To feel Connor tucked beside him as they walked along the snow dusted streets. He looked out to the crowd and spied human smiles and Android LED’s flickering happily and he thought about a year ago, to all the love that remained hidden.

 

He would fight for this. Alongside Connor, and his new friends.

 

It was too precious to give away.

 

“A scarf, perhaps?”

 

Hank looked into the store, abuzz with shoppers, and he found himself being pulled in through the front door by Connor and he followed along with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. It was like Connor knew exactly where to go, and he figured that the Android must of had some sort of prediction program installed in that supercomputer of a brain of his.

 

The store was huge, with a range of different tastes and styles, and Hank felt himself browsing despite himself and his distinct lack of like for store fitting rooms, but as if Connor could sense the coil of panic wrapping tight around his throat, he started to help Hank select his size without even a moment of pause or mention of measurements, and pressed the choices into his hands.

 

“If you don’t like them, we can always come back!”

 

The comment was made with Connor’s lips curling into a smile, and a genuine smile at that, one that he wasn’t thinking at all about, none of the muscle twitching grins that made him look as though he was trying to keep his tongue planted firmly into the roof of his mouth. It made Hank lean back on his heels and raise an eyebrow in Connor’s direction, and he particularly enjoyed how he seemed to bristle around the edges and go back to rustling through shirts.

 

“You know,” Hank rumbled, pressing up close to Connor’s side and resting his palm flat against the small of his back, crowding him a little against the rack of clothes, “if you want to come back on another shopping date, you just have to ask.”

 

If Connor had canine like ears installed instead of his human ones, Hank was sure that they would have perked up, just like the corners of his mouth, but instead of agreeing, because Hank could just feel the shy energy rolling off of the Android in waves, he simply turned to the display, slipped a scarf off the wall, and hooked it around Hank’s neck.

 

“A scarf, that’s what’s missing from this outfit. As much as the jacket and gloves keep me warm, I have sensitive wires in my neck that need to be kept from the cold.” 

 

And then in a move that took Hank clearly by surprise, he gently pulled on the scarf, bringing his lips down for a very sweet kiss that left Hank grinning as he pulled away.

 

“This one, I like this one.” Connor smiled such an innocent smile, gazing up at him with his doe like rich brown eyes, before slipping the scarf from Hank’s neck and walking with what Hank could have sworn was a little sway of the hips as he walked to the register.

 

He couldn’t help but frown to himself as they left the store though, both with boutique style bags containing both their purchases. Sure, he was proud of Connor for buying something suited to his own style, but to be honest, the scarf didn’t suit him at all, not his grey suit jacket, or his new darker winter coat, even his eyes.

 

Double thickness, a deep maroon on one side with paisley, almost garish patterns on the other, much suited to a new deep blue dress shirt with-

 

_ ‘ _ **_Wait_ ** _.’ _

 

_ “Connor.  _ You stop right there.”

 

With a tug on his hand, the Android swung into his arms, landing with a solid bump to his chest, his ever present warmth soaking through the front of his coat and scarf- bastard had taken off his gloves again, must have been getting used to the feeling, and those goddamn mischievous eyes met his once more.

 

“Hello Lieutenant.”

 

“The scarf, Connor, it’s not really for you, is it?”

 

One thing that he had discovered about Connor, especially, was that the Android had absolutely no form of poker face, not around Hank at least. He could bluff and intimidate perps like a pro, but like  _ this _ , it was as if all his programming just… melted away.

 

Like his skin, shimmering pearly white and blue where he touched the bare skin of Hank’s hand.

 

It made his heart swell beneath his ribs, beating strong and sure with wings that threatened to escape from his chest. Love, to him, had felt close to oddly enough, pigeons. Absolutely everywhere, shiny and iridescent, but tainted and dangerous and worrisome. They brought disease and ruin.

 

But that wasn’t fair, Hank mused, they were wild animals, and didn’t deserve to be associated with something so terrible.

 

And besides, he couldn’t help but smile every time he saw that single unique pigeon you would always see in a flock, pottering around with the other birds like it wasn’t as white as a dove, or speckled with caramel brown.

 

Maybe he shouldn’t be as afraid of birds as he first thought.

 

The Android’s face scrunched and his lips pursed in a pout that Hank wanted to kiss straight off of his face. 

 

“Hank, you ruined the surprise.”

 

“I thought you wanted a scarf to go with your outfit?”

 

Connor took the soft wool from its bag, and just like he had done in the store, looped it around Hank’s neck.

 

“But I have one.” 

 

Another smile, another want and need to kiss the newly found expression from his lips. Connor’s hands smoothed down his front, stroking his chest as he admired and hummed at the color of the scarf before he pressed up on his toes to nuzzle at his jawline in a mock kiss while he-

 

“Hey!! You little shit-!”

 

Before Hank could even react properly, Connor had slyly unzipped his jacket to retrieve the end of his well loved scarf, before tugging it away to wrap around his own neck.

 

“That was the plan! Wasn’t it? Buy a new scarf to replace the one you were inevitably going to steal? It’s-  _ no, no no don’t use those eyes on me- _ ”

 

It was the head tilt that did it, a little tick that had undone him at so many crime scenes, and he was lost to the eyes that gazed up at him, filled with absolute glee and an innocent smile painted on those beautiful lips as he ever so slowly folded the lengths of the stolen scarf within the confines of his coat. One moment, then two, and Hank sighed half heartedly with mock frustration and thrust his hands into his coat, rubbing his cheek against his brand new scarf.

 

It really suited him, didn’t irritate his skin, was warm as hell, and was just about the right level of patterned to suit his eclectic tastes.

 

And  _ Connor _ , looked absolutely at home in his, the color didn’t match, and it was faded and torn in a spot near his cheek, but goddamn if Hank didn’t feel all the breath leave his lungs at the smile on his face.

 

Connor had won.

 

“Alright, smartass, you win this round.” 

 

Hank turned on his heel, toyed with playing frustrated, but couldn’t help as he cocked his elbow out to the side, hoping that Connor would get the gesture, and of course he did, slipping his arm through the handle he created to clutch and snuggle up to his side in the cold.

 

“How about some shoes next? My sensors tell me there is a five star rated outlet near here.”

 

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna steal my shoes next! You’re barely my size!”

 

And with that, they continued down the street and even during their wholehearted banter, Hank couldn’t help but press a rough kiss to Connor’s forehead.

 

Yes.

 

Hank would fight for this.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
